Unintended Consequences
by yassandra
Summary: Sometimes herbal tonics can have strange effects on people.


A/N I've done it! I've actually done it! I've crept in under the wire with this fic to _finally_ make a bingo on my hurt/comfort bingo card! It's a bit longer than I intended and probably the closest I've ever managed to come to writing something fluffy - and it's not particularly fluffy... oh well I'll have to try harder next time...

This story been written for Round 6 of Bingo on the Hurt/Comfort LJ community, to incorporate the prompt 'side effects'. I hope you enjoy it :-)

* * *

"Remind me why we're doing this again?" Jason had never sounded more exasperated to Pythagoras' ears.

Pythagoras sighed.

"Because it is Hercules. We cannot leave him to struggle alone," he answered.

Jason grunted.

"I know," he sighed. "It's just…"

"That sometimes he acts without thinking," Pythagoras finished. "Although I do not think he is the only one to do that," he added, levelling a long look at his friend.

Jason had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"At least your reasons for jumping headlong into things without considering the consequences are usually noble," Pythagoras said comfortingly. "And they do not involve either your stomach, money or women… which I am afraid to say are usually Hercules' motivations."

In silence they heaved at the barrel they were straining to move, staggering on a few paces before dropping it alongside the others they had already shifted into position in the corner of the warehouse. Jason grimaced as he shook his numb fingers, then blew on them as the blood flow began to return to normal, pins and needles indicating the return of feeling. Alongside him he saw Pythagoras shoving his hands under his armpits and squeezing, clearly trying to alleviate the ache in his own fingers.

Together they started back towards the docks once more. Three more barrels to go and they would be finished for the night. Tired now, having already shifted nine huge barrels from the docks to the merchant's warehouse, they trudged in comfortable silence, easy in each other's company.

"Look on the bright side," Pythagoras said, his soft voice breaking the still night air. "At least we are getting paid for this."

Jason grunted again.

"Yeah," he conceded ruefully. "It's just that it's typical of Hercules to arrange a job like this and then not be here when the hard work is being done."

He wasn't being completely fair and he knew it but he was beyond tired, muscles across the top of his chest, shoulders and upper back screaming their disapproval at tonight's activities.

Pythagoras frowned.

"We could certainly have done with his strength tonight," he agreed. "But to be completely fair I am sure that Hercules would have been here if he could. He could not help twisting his ankle last night."

Jason looked at Pythagoras with a raised eyebrow.

"He fell over while he was drunk," he pointed out.

"Yes but that is not such an unusual occurrence," Pythagoras said. "Injuring himself is something a lot less frequent however."

They had left Hercules at home with his bandaged right foot propped up on a stool with a flagon of wine by his side and a miserable expression on his face. At least he had seemed genuinely contrite and upset that he could not join them tonight, Jason reflected as they began the walk from docks to warehouse with yet another barrel carried between them.

Halfway to the warehouse they paused to catch their breath, barrel resting on the hard-packed dirt of the back alleyway they were using. Further down the street lights shone brightly from the front of a tavern, the patrons spilling raucously out into the street, the sounds of merrymaking clear. As the two boys watched, Hercules came out of the door with his arm slung around the shoulders of another patron, limping slightly but otherwise seeming remarkably cheerful. Jason and Pythagoras exchanged a long look.

"I'm going to kill him," Jason muttered.

"You will have to get in line behind me," Pythagoras asserted grimly.

Jason glanced at him, startled by Pythagoras' tone of voice. He didn't think he'd ever seen the mathematician looking so angry. It was more than a little disturbing to be honest and Jason couldn't help the involuntary flinch he gave, suddenly feeling sorry for Hercules, knowing that whenever Pythagoras caught up with him the results were unlikely to be pleasant.

"Come on," Jason said. "Let's get this over and done with. We've only got a couple more to go and then we'll be done for the night."

Pythagoras nodded his agreement, still staring hard down the street that Hercules had disappeared down, his eyes flat and angry.

It was on their last trip that disaster struck. As they entered the warehouse Pythagoras tripped over his own feet and staggered sideways, shoving the barrel into Jason, who, caught off balance, was thrown into the wall, the heavy barrel slamming into his shoulder awkwardly. With a strangled cry he dropped the load from suddenly nerveless fingers and slid down the wall into a heap at the bottom, head dropping forwards and left hand coming up to cover the point of agony that had suddenly flared in his right shoulder. Stars danced in front of his eyes, teasing him with the pull of unconsciousness, and bile rose in the back of his throat.

As the stars faded and the sharp stabbing at his shoulder muted to an angry throb he realised that Pythagoras was crouching in front of him, looking at him anxiously, hand resting on Jason's uninjured shoulder and calling his name.

"I'm alright," Jason rasped out, his voice distinctly strained.

"Let me see," Pythagoras instructed. "Where does it hurt?"

He attempted to prise Jason's hand away from his shoulder but stopped helplessly as his friend cried out sharply at the movement.

For a moment they both sat there, Jason with his head dropped forwards, breathing heavily, and Pythagoras steadying his friend. Finally, Jason lifted his head and looked at Pythagoras with pain filled eyes. He allowed his hand to drop from his shoulder and grasped the elbow of his injured arm firmly, trying to immobilise it as much as possible and to still the drumbeat at his collarbone. He attempted a half-hearted smile at his friend.

"I think I've hurt my shoulder," he said.

Pythagoras nearly rolled his eyes at the statement. It was blatantly obvious that Jason had injured his shoulder.

"Can you move it?" he asked.

Still breathing deeply, Jason shook his head slightly, fighting the rising tide of nausea that assailed him once more.

"Think it might be dislocated again," he managed. "It feels sort of like it did after the first round in the Pankration."

Pythagoras winced. He had suspected that his friend might be left with a weakness in the shoulder after the injury he had sustained in the fighting contest but he had still hoped that it might not be the case.

"Well we cannot do anything about it here," he said sensibly. "Come on. We need to get you home where I can treat this properly."

"What about the job?" Jason asked.

"I think you are more important than any job," Pythagoras said sharply. "But in any case we were being paid to ensure that the barrels were in the warehouse and that is what we have done. I hardly think that Ablerus can withhold payment because one of them is in the middle of the floor instead of against the wall. We will leave Hercules to sort it out and obtain payment… it is the least he can do."

Gently he helped his friend to get to his feet, feeling every wince, grimace and groan that Jason couldn't supress with compassion brimming in his eyes.

The journey home was short but painful. Pythagoras steadied his friend as much as he could, knowing that any unnecessary movement would cause Jason pain, but it was inevitable that Jason's shoulder would be jostled somewhat. Every time it happened he needed to stop, lights dancing in front of his eyes once more. The trip up the stairs to the front door was particularly hard and Pythagoras was aware of just how much his friend was sweating; trembling with the effort it was taking him to stay on his own two feet.

"Come on," he urged. "Just a few more steps and we will be there."

As the two boys staggered in through the door Hercules wandered out of his bedroom. It was true that he had twisted his ankle slightly but he had perhaps unintentionally exaggerated the severity of the injury to his housemates. Now though, the evening in the tavern had left him feeling content and mellow. His friendly smile dropped to a distinct frown as he regarded his two friends, however. Pythagoras was hovering, looking tired and worried, and Jason was pale and sweating, his face grey.

"What in the name of the Gods has happened to you two?" the burly wrestler exclaimed.

"There was an accident with the last barrel," Pythagoras answered tersely, guiding Jason to the edge of the table and encouraging his friend to sit on it, gently easing him down until he was lying flat on its surface. "Jason is injured."

"Was the barrel damaged?" Hercules worried, latching on to the first part of Pythagoras' statement and completely missing the second part. They were running distinctly short on money again and the payment from this job was sorely needed to stop them from starving.

"No," Pythagoras snapped. "It was not damaged."

"Thank the Gods," Hercules responded, still missing the fact that Pythagoras was gathering medical supplies.

The young genius huffed an incredulous and horrified laugh.

"For goodness sake Hercules," he railed, his anger growing. "I tell you that your friend is injured and you are more concerned about a barrel of wine? What kind of friend are you?"

"Injured?" Hercules exclaimed, the news finally filtering through his brain. "What happened?"

"The barrel slipped from my grasp and hit Jason," Pythagoras answered guiltily. "He was thrown into the wall."

"It wasn't your fault," Jason managed to mutter. "Accidents happen."

"I believe his shoulder may be separated," Pythagoras concluded.

Hercules made his way over to the table and looked sympathetically at his dark haired friend.

"The same one you hurt in the Pankration?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jason grunted.

Talking was taking effort at the moment; energy that he would rather put into keeping as still as possible. Stillness was good; the scream in his shoulder dulled pleasantly to an ache. His good hand still tightly grasped the bicep of his injured arm, steadying it as much as possible.

Hercules sighed.

"You know it's going to need putting back in don't you?" he asked.

"Mmm," Jason agreed.

"And that the sooner it's done the better."

"We could leave it for a bit," Jason answered, not quite willing to be move again when sensation was so agreeably dampened. Stillness was definitely agreeing with him and he did not want that disturbed right now.

"Jason," Pythagoras said with fond exasperation. "You know that your shoulder will not get better on its own."

"It might," Jason mumbled.

Pythagoras shook his head.

"To put off the inevitable will only cause you more pain in the long run," he pointed out. "The quicker the injury is treated the better off you will be."

"Alright," Jason sighed, giving in without a real fight for once.

"I don't suppose there's any way I can convince you that this won't hurt," Hercules said, his eyes still concerned.

"No," Jason answered shortly.

"Alright then," the big man said. "Best we get on with it then." He looked at his friend. "Are you ready?"

"No," Jason answered truthfully because he really didn't think he could ever be ready for what he knew Hercules was about to do.

Hercules frowned as he gently removed Jason's hand from his arm, forcing himself to ignore the little cry of pain that his friend gave. As carefully as he could he moved Jason's injured arm up and out, getting it into a position where he would have the leverage to force the young man's shoulder back into joint. At this angle he could clearly see that Jason's shoulder was most definitely dislocated, the joint misshapen and swollen even through the light tunic he was wearing. It was hard to ignore the young man's hitching breath; the little sobs of pain he clearly couldn't help. As reassuringly as he could, Hercules placed his right hand gently on his friend's shoulder as he firmly grasped Jason's right hand with his left one. Jason had covered his face with his left hand, knowing what was coming.

"Trust me," the burly wrestler said softly.

With one swift movement he yanked Jason's arm down and to the side, putting all his weight behind it. The crunch that came as the shoulder snapped back into place was loud and unpleasant. Jason cried out sharply and rolled onto his side, curling in on himself in a subconscious attempt to protect himself from further pain or injury. His vision darkened for a moment and he whimpered.

"Try it now," Hercules instructed firmly.

Painfully slowly, Jason managed to move his arm, clenching and unclenching the fingers of his hand, although he couldn't keep himself from whimpering as he did it.

Pythagoras moved forwards smiling reassuringly at his injured friend.

"I have a poultice that should help to bring down the swelling," he said softly. "And I have a tonic that you should take to ease the pain."

Jason didn't respond verbally. He was still too busy trying to cope with the burning pain that came from resetting his shoulder and the resultant wave of nausea that had risen. He knew that Hercules' actions would make things better but right now his body was most definitely protesting against the somewhat brutal treatment. Still breathing hard, he allowed his hand to drop from where he had been running it over his face, fingers occasionally clenching and unclenching in his hair, down to rest against his shoulder once more; willing the burning drumming to still.

Pythagoras frowned as he carefully applied the poultice to his friend's shoulder. The sooner he could get Jason to drink the painkilling tonic the better. Then they might all be able to get to bed and get some much needed rest. He was a great believer in sleep as a healer. With hurried steps he moved to the shelves, muttering to himself, searching hurriedly for the small bottles of tonic that he knew were there.

"Hercules have you moved my bottles?" he asked absently, still searching.

"What bottles?" Hercules responded.

"There were three small bottles on this shelf," Pythagoras said. "It was the last of the batch of tonic that I had mixed up."

Hercules began to look shifty.

"Maybe they were stolen," he muttered.

"Stolen?" Pythagoras said incredulously. "Who would want to break into here to steal three bottles of tonic?"

"A tonic thief?" Hercules answered. "If you can't find them you'll just have to make up some more."

"I cannot make any more tonight," Pythagoras said. "I have run out of several of the key ingredients."

"Ah," Hercules said looking shiftier than ever.

Pythagoras stared at him for a moment.

"What did you do?" he demanded.

"I might have knocked one of the bottles over while I was looking for a wine skin earlier," Hercules answered. "But it was a ridiculous place to keep them anyway… so really it's your fault."

"A ridiculous place?" Pythagoras exclaimed. " _On a shelf_? And that does not explain where the other two bottles are!"

"My foot was hurting," Hercules answered.

"So you drank them both?" Pythagoras demanded. "Hercules they are meant to be taken one at a time. You would have had no need to drink both bottles of tonic."

Hercules shrugged awkwardly.

Pythagoras stared at him in amazement.

"I cannot believe you," he said sharply.

"What?" Hercules asked.

"I cannot believe how selfish you are at times," the young genius said. He sighed. "Very well we will just have to make the best of things."

* * *

Early the next morning Pythagoras slipped back in through the door of the house. He had got up with the sun and gone to the agora to purchase some items from the herbalist's stall to make a fresh batch of tonic, knowing that he did not really have the time to go to the forest and gather the herbs himself on this occasion. He had been frustrated in his quest, however. The herbalist had sold out of several of the ingredients Pythagoras required and increased bandit activity in the forest had meant that their supply had been temporarily cut off. The woman had been most apologetic and had offered Pythagoras a ready-made tonic in place of the herbs. The young mathematician had some misgivings (after all he preferred to brew his own so that he knew exactly what went into them) but on the whole had decided that the situation required him to take a risk on this occasion. Counting out the few coins that he possessed (saved from Hercules by hiding them in amongst Pythagoras' writing implements and mathematical tools – the one place the burly wrestler was guaranteed never to look), Pythagoras had bought one small bottle of tonic and made his way home.

He glanced across at the small corner alcove where Jason had made himself a place; not a room of his own as such but most definitely his own personal space. His dark haired friend appeared to be sleeping fitfully on his bed. Pythagoras sighed. Last night he had made Jason as comfortable as he could, immobilising his arm in a sling to try to give his shoulder the chance to rest and heal, but he had known that there was really no substitute for a properly mixed painkilling tonic and had suspected his friend's night would be difficult as a result of the lack of proper medication. He placed the satchel he was carrying down on the table in the kitchen, removed the full bottle of medicine and placed it on a shelf (which was the correct place to keep such things whatever Hercules had tried to claim last night) and began to prepare a meagre breakfast for himself and his two friends.

"Ow!"

Pythagoras looked up again at the sudden yelp.

"Are you alright?" he asked as Jason trudged over to the table and plonked himself down on a stool, dropping his head onto hand.

"Mmm," Jason grunted in response.

"Here," Pythagoras said, handing his friend the tonic he had purchased. "This should help with any discomfort."

"Thanks," Jason muttered, downing the tonic in one and pulling a face at the taste. "That's not one of your usual's," he added.

"No," Pythagoras answered. "I am afraid that the herbs I needed were not available in the agora so I was forced to purchase a ready-made tonic."

"You didn't have to do that just for me," Jason murmured, looking embarrassed.

"Of course I did," Pythagoras retorted. "Your shoulder will heal much quicker if you are not in pain… _and_ if you allow it to rest." He fixed Jason with a significant look.

Jason rolled his eyes.

"Yes mother," he responded.

"I mean it," Pythagoras said, raising his eyebrows.

"It'll be fine," Jason answered. "After all the last time Hercules reset my shoulder I fought in the Pankration afterwards."

"I remember," Pythagoras said with asperity. "I also remember that for the following two weeks you could not use your arm at all _because_ you fought in the Pankration after Hercules reset your shoulder. I do not want a reoccurrence of that."

Both young men jumped in surprise as the door opened and Hercules wandered in, still limping slightly.

"Ah breakfast," the burly wrestler rumbled with pleasure.

"Hercules!" the two boys chorused.

Hercules stopped, startled, and looked between the pair of them.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"I did not know you had gone out my friend," Pythagoras said. "I presumed you would still be in bed at this hour."

"Yes… well… someone had to go and make sure we were paid for our efforts last night," Hercules answered.

"Our efforts?" Pythagoras asked mildly. "I did not think you were with us."

"I was there in spirit," Hercules answered. "Anyway, Ablerus wasn't too happy that you'd left the last barrel standing in the middle of the warehouse but I managed to persuade him to pay us in full anyway. After all you boys _did_ deliver all the barrels as asked." He paused and dropped a pouch of coins onto the table. "We've got enough to keep us comfortable for a few weeks in there."

Pythagoras gathered up the pouch and examined it, counting out the coins it contained, his mind busily planning.

"If we are careful this should last us for some time," he murmured.

"I've been thinking that since we've got a bit to spare we should visit the bathhouse," Hercules rumbled, sitting down and helping himself to the lion's share of breakfast.

"We cannot afford to waste money on luxuries," Pythagoras argued. "Especially since it might be a little while before we can undertake that sort of job again." He allowed his eyes to signal towards Jason, trying to indicate to Hercules that it might be some time before their friend was fit for manual labour.

Hercules raised an eyebrow.

"I've heard you say often enough that relaxing in warm water can ease painful muscles and help healing," he pointed out.

"It does," Pythagoras admitted, "but it will not help much if we end up starving."

"You're worrying too much," Hercules argued. "We've got more money in that pouch than we've seen in months."

"I still think that we need to be prudent," Pythagoras disagreed. "What do you think?" He turned to Jason.

Jason didn't answer. In fact he didn't even seem to be listening, staring almost blankly towards the balcony.

"Jason?" Pythagoras called.

"What?" Jason responded.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Jason answered slowly. "I'm fine… I'm good."

Hercules and Pythagoras exchanged a look.

"Well?" the big man rumbled.

"Well what?" Jason asked.

Hercules huffed a breath in exasperation.

"What do you think of my idea of going to the baths?"

Jason frowned.

"I… erm… I… don't know… sorry… I can't seem to… erm… I can't seem to focus," he answered vaguely, giving his friends an overly bright, lop-sided smile.

Pythagoras peered a little more closely at his younger friend and nearly groaned out loud. Jason's eyes were very bright but glazed; the pupils blown wide.

"How do you feel?" the young mathematician asked gently.

"I feel fine," Jason answered brightly. "Everything's fine. This isn't even hurting anymore." He gestured towards his bad shoulder.

"Oh Gods," Pythagoras muttered. "This is just what we need!"

He gestured for Hercules to follow him and made his way over towards his bedroom.

"What's going on?" Hercules asked.

Pythagoras sighed.

"I could not obtain any herbs this morning so I was forced to purchase a ready-made tonic," he answered. "It would appear that the tonic has some unwanted side effects."

"What do you mean?" Hercules growled. "What unwanted side effects."

"He is intoxicated," Pythagoras answered. "Drugged."

Hercules sniggered.

"Jason's drunk?" he asked.

"Not exactly," Pythagoras answered. "He is drugged as I said and is unlikely to be fully in control or aware. We will need to watch him carefully to make sure that the side effects do not worsen."

"Speaking of which," Hercules said with a frown, "where is he?"

Pythagoras span around in consternation. Hercules was right – there was no sign of Jason at the table where they had left him. A sound from the balcony sent the mathematician skidding in that direction. He stopped in the doorway with a horrified gasp.

"Jason get down from there," he said sharply. "It is not safe."

Jason had climbed up onto the edge of the balcony and teetered there, his good arm grasping the edge of the roof, leaning out over the street.

"You can see all sorts of things from up here," he said with a bright giggle.

"Oh Gods," Hercules groaned, coming up behind Pythagoras.

Without waiting for approval from his mathematically inclined friend, the big man pushed past and stepped over to the far side of the balcony, reaching out with his meaty arms and grasping his other friend around the waist, swinging Jason back down to the ground as gently as he could. Jason pouted.

"What did you do that for?" he complained. "I was having fun." He looked towards the edge of the balcony again as though he was going to climb back up there instantly.

"No!" Pythagoras said sharply. "No climbing on things. It is not safe."

Jason gave an apparently long-suffering sigh.

"Alright," he responded, wandering back inside.

Pythagoras and Hercules exchanged a look before the mathematician hurried after their friend.

Jason had dropped onto a bench alongside the table. He had slipped his arm out of the sling and picked up a sharp knife, playing with it, tossing it from hand to hand. Pythagoras almost flew across the room.

"Jason put that down!" he snapped. "And get your arm back in that sling… you will make your shoulder worse."

Jason stopped what he was doing and blinked at Pythagoras in confusion, the knife falling harmlessly from his fingers and clattering on the surface of the table. The young genius frowned as he approached his friend but allowed his tone to become more gentle.

"Come on," he said softly. "Let me help you get your arm into the sling."

With gentle and deft fingers, he manipulated his friend's arm until it was where he wanted it; resting securely in the sling he had tied. It occurred to him in passing that Jason really didn't seem to be feeling any discomfort at all at the moment, which he supposed was a positive thing. At least the tonic had worked as it was supposed to in one respect. On the whole though, Pythagoras could have done without the more obvious side effects.

He turned away from Jason for a moment and turned back just in time to see his friend reaching for the knife with his good hand once more. Pythagoras smacked the back of Jason's fingers sharply, much in the manner that one might tap the nose of a misbehaving puppy.

"No knives," he said. "They are dangerous."

As Hercules prudently began to gather up all the knives and other sharp objects that their friend might take it into his head to start playing with, Pythagoras sat down on the other side of the table from Jason and looked at his friend appraisingly.

Jason favoured him with a bright, lop-sided smile, but his eyes betrayed the fact that, mentally at least, he was not really present in the room.

"I miss socks," he said suddenly. "I don't know why you don't have them here. They make your feet all nice and comfy."

"Socks?" Pythagoras said slowly, trying the unfamiliar word. "What are socks?"

"They're socks," Jason said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You know… socks. Wool things that you put on your feet before you put your sandals on."

Hercules leant towards Pythagoras.

"What is he talking about?" he whispered.

"I do not have a clue," Pythagoras whispered back.

"I suppose you don't need them here though," Jason went on mournfully. "It's so warm that your feet would get too hot if you wore socks too." He paused for a moment. "Is it always this warm?" he asked.

"In the summer, yes," Pythagoras answered, pointedly ignoring the way that Hercules was circling one finger near his temple as an indication of what he thought of Jason's current topic of conversation. "In the winter it is somewhat colder because the winds blow in off the sea."

"Hmm," Jason replied. "I miss music too. I used to have music all the time and now it's gone. I can't even seem to hear it in my head anymore."

He broke off and stared out the window blankly

Hercules and Pythagoras exchanged another look.

"It will be better if we can persuade him to rest and sleep this off," Pythagoras murmured.

"Right," Hercules agreed. He turned to Jason. "Well I don't know about you but I'm pretty tired," he said. "I guess none of us got too much sleep last night. I reckon we could all do with a good nap."

Pythagoras nearly rolled his eyes. Hercules couldn't have been more obvious if he had tried. Still, Jason looked at him in bemusement.

"I'm wide awake," he said brightly. "I think I'll go and visit Ariadne if you want to have a nap."

Pythagoras shuddered at the thought of his friend out in the city in this state. The trouble that Jason could get into was terrifying.

"No," he said soothingly. "I am not tired at all and I would prefer to have some company. Stay here and we can chat."

Jason blinked.

"Alright," he said.

* * *

As the shadows of early evening lengthened, Pythagoras dropped down onto a stool with a sigh. It had been a long day. A _very_ long day. Jason had been a problem. Hercules had had to pull him down from the edge of the balcony twice more as the morning had gone on and he just hadn't stopped _talking_. On any normal day Jason was not exactly a chatterbox. Friendly and polite, yes; a chatterbox, no. But it seemed that whatever the tonic that Pythagoras had purchased contained it had elicited a completely unexpected response in their friend.

Pythagoras sighed as he glanced across towards the corner alcove. It hadn't been as if anything Jason had said had made any sense either. It was as if anything that came into his head came out of his mouth without any sort of filter; random, disjointed thoughts as he slid around mentally; strange incomprehensible words that confused both his friends no end. It had been obvious that he had been talking nonsense (after all, what exactly was a com-pu-ter?) but he had been speaking so earnestly, fever-bright eyes darting here and there, that neither of his friends had wanted to correct him.

The constant bright but nonsensical chatter had been annoying but at least it had been harmless. Jason's attempts to head out to visit Ariadne or climb onto the roof to see what was up there or propensity for playing with dangerous objects (Hercules had had something of a job to get his sword off him) had been less so. If Pythagoras hadn't been concerned about causing further damage to his friend he would have tied him to his bed just to stop him from inadvertently hurting himself. As it was he had held off for as long as possible, hoping against hope that the side effects of the tonic would wear off quickly – or at least wear off enough that Jason was no longer a danger to himself.

In the end Jason had simply run out of energy (a fact that his friends were remarkably grateful for) and had dropped onto the bench at the table with his head in his hand, still muttering random thoughts to himself. At that point Hercules (pushed to the edges of his patience) had decided to retreat to his bedroom, leaving Pythagoras to deal with their friend alone. Apparently being likened to an overgrown monkey had rankled somewhat (although they both knew that Jason would never say that sort of thing in his right mind) and Hercules had disappeared to calm down.

As Jason grew ever sleepier, the effects of the tonic wearing off at last, Pythagoras had been able to half guide and half propel him towards his bed where he had dropped, face first into the pillow and had remained, sleeping heavily, ever since. Pythagoras had watched over him for hours now, making sure that they were through the worst of whatever that tonic had done to Jason; making sure that his friend did not suffocate in his own pillow.

A soft groaning noise from said bed brought Pythagoras wearily to his feet now. Jason had rolled onto his left side and curled up, his face scrunching up with pain.

"Jason?" Pythagoras called softly.

"Ow," Jason muttered plaintively. "My head hurts."

His expression grew confused as his eyes slowly cracked open.

"What the hell happened?" he asked.

"Do you remember anything?" Pythagoras countered, aware that Hercules, having heard their soft voices, had limped out of his room and come up behind the mathematician.

Jason grimaced, still trying to get a grip on where he was and what was going on.

"Um… I remember moving some barrels," he said after a long pause, "and I remember hurting my shoulder." He paused for a moment trying to sort through his fuzzy thoughts to form coherent memories. "Hercules had to pop my shoulder back into joint?" he asked.

"Yes," Pythagoras answered. "That was last night."

"Okay," Jason muttered uncertainly. "I think I can vaguely remember you giving me some kind of tonic. We were about to have breakfast."

"Yes," Pythagoras answered. "It was not one of my own tonics, however, and you would appear to have had some sort of reaction to whatever it contained."

"What sort of reaction?" Jason asked.

"You talked a load of nonsense," Hercules snorted. "Not that you ever make a great deal of sense but I've never heard such a lot of rubbish."

"Nonsense?" Jason asked, still trying to get his bearings.

"Do not worry," Pythagoras answered. "You were drugged and you were not yourself."

His attempts to console his friend seemed to have gone somewhat awry, however. Jason looked more confused and alarmed than ever.

"What did I do?" he asked.

"You chattered away about whatever came into your head… which was nothing much in particular. Something about socks, whatever they are, and a com-pu-ter? I do not think you even knew what you were saying," Pythagoras said. "Oh and you called Hercules an overgrown monkey of course… but that might have been because he was attempting to lift you down from the edge of the balcony at the time… you seemed to find the idea of climbing onto the roof fascinating."

Jason between his two friends with horror.

"I am _so_ sorry," he said.

Pythagoras chuckled. Now that Jason appeared to be relatively back to normal he could begin to see the funny side of what had happened.

"There is no harm done," he murmured. "You were not unpleasant or violent in any way… not that I believe you ever would be. You were simply a little garrulous and a little adventurous. There is nothing to worry about in the slightest."

Jason looked a little happier.

"Still sorry," he muttered.

"Everything is well," Pythagoras said, "get some rest now and tomorrow we will all go and visit the bathhouse."

"I thought you didn't want to spend money on that," Hercules protested, although a longing gleam came into his eyes.

"I have reconsidered the matter," Pythagoras answered. "I believe that we deserve some sort of treat. We have all earned it."


End file.
